Another Chick
by SilverRavenofthefullmoon
Summary: What would happen if Goldie and Chanticleer didn't get together... if 'another chick' stole his heart. That is what this story is about.


**A.N: Okay this takes place before the gang (Edmund and all) see Chanticleer perform for the first time. Some F.Y.I. this has a little bit of a country song by Deana Carter. I do not own it OR any other character EXCEPT for Rebecca. Read and Enjoy. ^_^**

Chanticleer sighed as he sat at the small round table beside his manager, Pinky. The small Karaoke building was filled with lonely fellows like him who missed the country. Animals that were either forced to move to the city or, like him, they left because no one wanted them. Sadly, he gazed at the stage which was now empty and waiting for the next performer. Normally, the songs soothed his aching heart but tonight they didn't help at all.

"And now…" said the announcer, "I introduce to you the lovely, Rebecca!"

Chanticleer lifted his head off of the table. He'd never heard of her perform before, she must've been new. He was about to lay his head back down when she stepped out onto the stage with her guitar. He stared in awe, realizing why the announcer called her 'lovely'. Continuing to stare, he realized that 'lovely' didn't describe her whatsoever; downright 'gorgeous' was the correct term.

She was a chicken, but unlike the gals that were back on the farm, she was a golden color like him but a little bit lighter; plus she was taller than the others and was almost his height. Red hair rested at her shoulders and a light lavender bow that matched her shirt was on top of her head. She wore a light lavender tank top and blue jeans, true country clothing. As she sat on the stool prepared for her in front of the microphone, he also took notice that she was barefoot.

Everyone was silent as she situated herself, cleared her throat, and strummed a few chords on the guitar. As she glanced at the crowd, her eyes rested on Chanticleer who was now entranced by her deep blue eyes. She smiled at him, then cleared her throat and began to sing.

_I remember that new pair of blue jeans._

_And man your boots sure did shine._

_You had on, my favorite clone._

_I knew what was on your mind._

Her words were soft and comforting and they soothed the souls of the many seated at the tables. Chanticleer noticed that her eyes glanced over at him more than anywhere else. As she continued the song, her words made him wish he were back at the farm. He glanced at his manager and froze. Pinky was grinning at the girl with a look of greed in his eyes. Chanticleer had seen that grin before; it was a smile saying that he wanted this girl to perform for him. It was a smile that meant she would soon be working for Pinky.

After her song was over, Rebecca left the stage, glancing over her shoulder at the Rooster seated with the fat fox. Walking back to her guitar's case, a look of confusion came over her face. _'He looked so familiar,' _she frowned, putting the guitar in its case_. 'I just don't know where I've seen him before.'_ Shaking her head she closed and latched the case shut. Getting up she walked to the door to see Hank, the beagle that had performed before her trotted up to her smiling.

"Wow, Rebecca," he stated, still grinning, "that was an amazing song. I bet that if you wanted to you could get any producer to record your voice in an instant."

"Aw, thanks Hank," she grinned, her southern accent clear in her voice. "But I don't know if this is what I really want right now." She sighed as she opened the door. "Anyway, be safe and I guess I'll see you later."

"I'll tell you want King, that girl could sing couldn't she," Pinky asked as he and Chanticleer stood outside on the sidewalk by the side of the building.

"Yeah, she was good," he replied waiting for Pinky to call Murray to bring the Cadi to pick them up. Finally he asked, "Aren't you gonna call Murray?"

"Not yet, I'm waiting for that Rebecca to come out," Pinky grinned. "I'll give her an offer to work for me that she can't refuse!"

Chanticleer sighed shaking his head and silently gazed at the building. There, as if by magic, Rebecca stepped out of the side door with guitar case in hand. Even in the evening darkness her blue eyes were as visible and beautiful as ever. Slowly, he sneaked away from Pinky and walked up to her. As she turned to him, he smiled, "Hi."

Rebecca blinked at the figure standing in front of her. It was the Rooster that had watched her perform earlier. Now that she wasn't blinded by spotlights, she could see him clearer. He was a bit taller than her, wearing a white shirt that was almost all the way open and a pair of faded blue jeans. His hair was black and his eyes were a dark blue. She smiled slightly and said in return, "well hi there, um… can I help you?"

"I don't know if you can help him," Pinky said now coming up behind Chanticleer. "But I'm pretty sure I can help you." He stepped in front of the Rooster and grinned down at Rebecca who was now placing a hand on her hip and letting a frown show on her face.

"And exactly how do you think you can help me sir?"

"The name's Pinky," the fox shrugged his grin spreading. "You got one heck of a voice and I could use a bird like you." He pushed Chanticleer forward, "If anything you'll be working with the King here. He was just like you and I made him famous!" Pinky pulled a contract and a pen out of his pocket and handed it to her. "So what do ya say, do we got a deal?"

Rebecca looked at 'the King' and everything clicked in her head. That's where she'd seen him before. He was on the cover of the newspaper one day recently. She pondered the offer that this 'Pinky' was giving her. On one side, she would get more money and would be famous. On the down side, she wasn't sure if fame and fortune was what she really _wanted_. She was just starting out and she hadn't really expanded her talents. Glancing back at Pinky, she asked, "Exactly what would I be doing?"

"Well singing of course!"

"No, what type of singing would I be doing, Country or what?"

"Well, I" Chanticleer began but Pinky cut him off.

"Well if you sign the contract, you can come with us to see the King perform, fair enough?"

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, sighed, and then sat the guitar case down to use as a table to sign the paper. Handing it back to Pinky she saw him pull out a Walkie-talkie and mumble, "Murray, bring my car around." She glanced to see a pink Cadi pull up. Pinky opened the door and held it open for her and Chanticleer. A monkey walked over to her side, took her guitar and stuck it in the trunk of the car. As Pinky closed the door, she glanced at the King.

"King isn't your real name is it?" she questioned. He looked at her and shook his head.

"It's Chanticleer," he answered. She noticed that he had a small southern accent as well. She smiled as they drove away. "Chanticleer," she repeated. "It's a nice name, mines Re-"

"Rebecca, I know," Chanticleer said returning the smile. They stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned to look out the window. Sighing, Rebecca faced her own window. Watching the buildings and the small trees that were planted in spots fly by made her think of her home out in the country. The only reason she had left was because of the many floods that were now appearing. With barely any money at her home, she left to work in the city, sending some money home for her family. She glanced at Chanticleer and guessed that he had to do the same. Chanticleer must have sensed her look because he turned and glanced back at her. Rebecca's eyes widened due to the fact that she had been caught and turned away quickly.

Chanticleer raised an eyebrow at the woman as she stared and appeared to be trying not to look at him again. He smiled lightly, her face was quite priceless. Being up close he could see her eye's had green and little bits of gold in them. They were quite pretty as a matter of fact. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it and turned to look out of the window. They were almost to their destination where Rebecca would see him perform and where everyone would shout his name, or rather 'the king'. He smiled at how Rebecca had asked for his real name. He also liked the way she said it. He only hoped that she would stay and not have a problem singing the blues instead of her well known country that she seemed to be so passionate about.


End file.
